


the event horizon

by for_within_the_hollow_crown



Series: drift back to me (I’ll do the same) [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Jemma Simmons/Leo Fitz (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:46:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_within_the_hollow_crown/pseuds/for_within_the_hollow_crown
Summary: "I don't want a husband! How many times do I have to tell you?" Jemma paused and looked at her parents. Then, with a calmer voice added "Listen, I am sorry that you don't have a daughter whose sole purpose in life is to hitch herself to a man. There it is, I am not getting married. Not now. Not ever."To Fitz it sounded like a promise.





	the event horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for accio-the-force (XOLove47) who sent the prompt "FitzSimmons + things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear". It doesn't really feature Fitz/Simmons, but then again how could it if it's about something one of them was not supposed to hear? The premise, however, is that Fitz and Jemma have been "together" for a little more than a year at this point in the story.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

 

[Yorkshire 1911]

 

Fitz started to overhear the argument as soon as he stepped inside the house. It was inevitable not to hear it, not when the conversation that was taking place in the hallway, between the members of the Simmons family, was just starting to become a shouting match. Perhaps it had yet to explode completely, and perhaps it still carried some of the calmness and peacefulness that surely had characterized it until moments earlier, but it was escalating and quickly so - all attempts on the Simmons' side to keep it down and maintain some composure vain.

There was Jemma stumping her feet on the ground as she made her way towards the staircase, the sound of her feet on the floor muffled by the old carpet, all her movements rigid, mechanical and done on purpose. And then there were her father, her mother, and her brother following right behind her with a much more composed attitude. Lord Simmons had his hand stretched out as if he was trying to get a hold on his daughter or as if he was signalling for her to stop walking away, turn around and face them all. Lady Simmons walked quickly, her movements fluid and elegant, her brows furrowed, mouth half opened as if wanting to speak and not quite finding the right words - any attempt to stop Jemma was pointless anyway. Tom, on the other hand, appeared amused, quite amused indeed, walking in long strides so as to reach his sister and keep up with his parents, not wanting to miss a moment of it, almost enjoying what was happening as he begged everyone to just stop, take a breath, and settle things in a much more civil way.

Their voices got louder, frantic even - thoughts slipping away and words not fully managing to express them all in time. Composure, or the mere appearance of it, was being dropped and Jemma's brother's words were being covered by his father's voice with the same speed. It was a crescendo of emotions, pleas for Jemma to stop running away and turn around were now being replaced by full sentences that carried no requests in them, only facts. Anger was boiling beneath the surface, feelings were starting to explode, and rationality was slipping away and vanishing quicker and quicker. Their mumbles and grumbles, all their actions and inaction, appeared to match the storm outside - truth coming up and being exposed in outbursts that seemed to grow and be revealed with the same intensity and strength of the lightning and thunder outside. Even the air appeared electric, the sense of stillness and peace that usually characterized the abbey was gone, and there seemed to be something sharp about it, something heavy and oppressing. It could be cut with a knife.

Fitz slowed down, clutching the documents he was holding to his chest, and stopped before stepping into the hall. Every place in the abbey was only reachable by crossing the hall and the rain outside was too torrential to stand in - with no way out, he was trapped there. The scene in front of him, so private in its nature, was something that he had no wish to interrupt nor to find himself dragged into; he didn't know anything about the matter nor was it any of his business what had caused Jemma and her parents to reach their breaking point. He knew something, Jemma had been annoyed and angry for weeks, but he was oblivious to the starting point.

"- at least you could have showed some respect to our guests!"

Jemma stopped, turning around, one hand on the wooden handrail. She looked defiantly at her father, head held high, an air of challenge painted on her face as if she was daring him to go on talking, waiting for him to make a false step, say the wrong thing, giving her an even bigger advantage. Jemma looked, between all the flustered and annoyance, as if she knew that she was in the right, as if her attitude completely justified.

"I did show respect to Will's father."

"I don't mean him, I mean John Garrett."

"Why? John Garret is a slimy pig who insulted Daisy on several occasions throughout the afternoon, and just because she's in London doesn't allow him, or anyone else, to do so. And you," she paused, as if to recollect her thought  or gather up enough courage continue. "You didn't say anything to stop him or in her defence! Do you even care about Daisy or are so caught up in your anger about her leaving for London to go and work for _The Sketch_ that she's become a-"

"Stop it this minute!" Lord Simmons' words were a command, his tone severe and imposing. His baritone voice echoed in the hallway, the sentence harsh, a quick succession of plosive consonants coming out sharply and cutting the air.

Fitz flinched. In ten years he had only heard Jemma's father lose his temper twice and never with such a passion and strength. It was always strange to witness such a transformation for it was an unexpected one. He knew that there was no violence in Lord Simmons' anger, it was annoyance and anger mixed together, washing over him in waves and a fear of not having things under control - something that Fitz knew from Jemma - no cold and pointless rage, and yet memories of his own father inevitably surfaced.

"Oh and with Mr. Daniels it was all Jemma this, Jemma that, Jemma play us some piano and show us a taste of what to look forward to. You know that my piano skills are abysmal and that I didn't want that piano to begin with, yet you still forced me to play it."

Jemma seemed to imitate her father's voice, and Fitz almost expected it to be the ultimate breaking point, and started to prepare himself for it. The situation could run in any possible direction, and she seemed to be playing with fire: everything was at stake, everything could be lost. It would take nothing - one word spoken too harshly, a mock, a refusal - for the balance that she had carefully established with her parents to disappear completely. Even Oxford was at stake, and he hoped that despite all the rage for the blatant show off of her in front of their guests, Jemma would keep it in mind and hold on to that simple goal.

Fitz looked at Jemma's brother. Tom looked as if he was holding his breath, utterly terrified for the consequences of what was happening, and yet there was also half an amused smile on his face as the last words his sister had pronounced were dropped and hung in the air. It was hilarious, were it not for the gravity of the situation, because it was common knowledge how much Jemma hated that piano just as it was common knowledge that Will Daniels was a much better piano player than her to begin with. They had all joked about it back in May when Will had come to visit along with his sisters and Edith had said _What a beautiful piano you have here_ to which Jemma, in complete and utter seriousness had replied, _If it were for me, you could take it with you back to London._

"And no mention of Oxford!" Jemma continued. "I'm sure that Mr. Daniels would have at least smiled at the news, but you seem to forget who his wife is."

"Jemma Anne Simmons!" her mother screamed in an attempt to stop her.

Jemma, however, didn't stop and her words were now coming out in an uninterrupted flow, with no apparent end to them. There was courage now, fuelled by the idea of having already taken it all a step too far, which allowed her to go on talking and pour out her heart with the same easiness she had when she talked to him. Weeks, months, if not years of unspoken resentment were surfacing and coming out in complete freedom, her own feelings washing over her in renewed vigour.

"But that's not enough, is it? It's all jolly well fine when we're here and it's between us, but the moment guests arrive, Oxford becomes irrelevant and my piano skills are the only thing that seem to matter. Why is Oxford not enough? Why is Oxford never enough?"

Fitz wished for a hole to open under his feet and eat him up alive, making him disappear. Anything but to stand there and listen, because it all made sense - suddenly half of the conversations he had had with Jemma on their walks or during stolen moments spent together came into focus; it felt as if all of a sudden and unexpectedly so, all the pieces of a puzzle had come together thus revealing Jemma's feelings on everything with complete clearance.

"I'm simply concerned that you're turning yourself into a bluestocking and-"

"And what? Follow down Daisy's route, go to London and live alone, work and have a purpose in life?"

"Be careful Jemma," her mother said. "One of these days someone might take you seriously when you say such things."

"And wouldn't that be great."

"That's no way to find a husband!" 

"I don't want a husband! How many times do I have to tell you?" Jemma paused and looked at her parents. Then, with a calmer voice added "Listen, I am sorry that you don't have a daughter whose sole purpose in life is to hitch herself to a man. There it is, I am not getting married. Not now. Not ever."

To Fitz it sounded like a promise.

Silence fell and everything appeared to be frozen. The Simmons looked at each other in silence and confusion, feelings slowly starting to diminish and spirits to calm down and wear off. Nothing more was to be said now that Jemma had made her mind known clear and simple, words spoken in a temper could not be misinterpreted by anyone for she had left no space for misunderstandings or confusion. Fitz looked away embarrassed.

"Well, that's clear then," said Tom as his sister walked upstairs.

 


End file.
